Just  Off The  Coast  To The  Baltic Sea 
   There'S A Freshwater Pond, Secluded    
 Among Ashen And Juniper. A Cleft In  The 
   Limestone Bedrock, Sharp-Cut From The  
    Surrounding Plains, A Ninety Degree   
 Drop  Down, Down, To  The Midnight-Black 
                  Water.                  
                                          
                          
                                  
     Fairies Live Here.     
                                  
                          
                                          
 They  Speak  To  The Sloane, Caress  It, 
 Urge It To  Grow Thicker,  Tangled, With 
 Longer And Sharper Thorns. They  Tell It 
 To  Stay Just Below  The Grass,  So That 
 The  Animals  What  Come  To  Drink  The 
 Water  Cannot  See  It  Before  It Draws 
 Their Blood.  Closer To  The  Pond,  The 
 Sloane Can  Grow Taller,  Being  Able To 
        Hide Also In The Juniper.         
                                          
 The  Fairies Will Beckon  The Animals To 
 Push  Forward,  Tell  Them  That They'Re 
 Almost  At  The  Water,  That  They  May 
 Drink  Soon. And They Will  Tug  On  The 
 Sloane To Make  Sure That The Thorns Cut 
 Deep.  When  They Finally Find  The Path 
 Down Between The  Rocks,  Away  From The 
 Bushwork  And Into  The Cleft, They  Are 
 Bleeding  From  A  Thousand  Wounds.  As 
 They  Drink  From The Dark Water,  It Is 
 In  Turn  Drinking  The  Animals  Blood. 
                                          
 The  Circle Is  Complete,  The  Contract 
 Carried Out; The Animal  Is Abandoned To 
 Find Its Own  Way Back. The Bushes Roots 
 Drink The Nutrutious  Water. The Fairies 
          Dance In The Sunbeams.